


Rattling His Funny Bones

by FuzzyBrains



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Consensual tickling, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fetish, M/M, Mild Kink, Multi, Not-so-platonic tickling, Platonic tickling, Post-Pacifist Route, Sans is short, Tickling, puns, reader has no gender
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-05-16 08:31:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5821480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuzzyBrains/pseuds/FuzzyBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sans has somehow discovered your kink, and is out to make you admit to it. The only thing is, he hasn't got the full picture of it yet...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a beautiful summer day outside, and you couldn’t be happier to be heading out to meet your friends… for some movie-watching in a house with central air conditioning. Summer meant parties, barbecues, and lounging on the couch with your best pals. Mostly the latter, because let’s be honest, when your best friends are couch potatoes and anime fans that’s what winds up happening.

Oh sure, a couple of them insist on at least a _few_ beach days during the warm months, and you’re inclined to go with.

But that was neither here nor there as you pulled up to the simple two-bedroom house where a certain set of skeleton brothers lived.

You checked yourself in the mirror as you cut off the engine to your car. Hair was more or less in place, your skin looked good, and your eyes were bright after a good nights’ rest. Your clothes were all in order, you had your bag-o-goodies, your phone… _Excellent._

Not that either of them would particularly care if you one day chose to show up wearing nothing but a burlap sack; the worst you’d have to put up with is some bad puns and general ribbing from one of them, and concern from the other one. But you always wanted to look nice; pictures were commonly swapped with everybody and you wanted to look your best.

_Admittedly not just for the pictures…_

“Right, let’s go.”

You slipped out of the car and headed up to the door, reaching up to knock.

Huh. That was odd. Usually Papyrus was there to pull the door open just as you were halfway through your second or third knock. This time, however, you were able to fully rap out “shave and a haircut” and wait a moment before the answering, “two bits” was rapped back.

The door then opened, and to your pleasant surprise Sans was standing there instead. He was wearing his usual outfit, and his usual grin—but something about the latter seemed a bit different from usual. Maybe it was in the way he was leaning forward slightly to peer up at you as he greeted you.

“hey, pal,” he said.

You flashed him a bright grin, feeling a rush of warmth at the sight of him. “Hey, yourself. Ready for movie marathon day?”

“am I.” He rocked back on his heels for a moment, his grin growing just a bit as he added, “i’m just _tickled pink_ we were able to do today instead of tomorrow.”

You blinked.

Then you blushed, as your mind immediately began to panic. _Does he- how would he know- no that doesn’t make sense- what the-_

Pushing your thoughts aside, you only offered a nod. “Is everyone coming today then?”

He searched your expression for a moment, then stepped to one side to let you in. You slipped past him, grateful you had an excuse to hide your burning face as he answered, “Frisk, Tori, and Asgore had a thing today, but Undyne and Alphys said they’re on their way. you’re the first one here though.”

“Awesome, I’ll go stash my snacks in the fridge then. Where’s your brother?”

“use your _noodle_ and take a wild guess.”

You chuckled, and headed for the kitchen.

Sure enough, there was the taller of the brothers, working away at the stove. Upon hearing your entry, he turned to wave a wooden spoon at you. You resigned yourself to being covered in marinara sauce the day you agreed to be his friend, so you didn’t even flinch when some of the sauce was flicked onto your shirt. “Oh, hello friend!” he said in his cheerful, booming voice. “You’re right on time! Unlike Undyne and Alphys, who are running late.”

“Any reason why?” you asked, moving to shove a few drinks into the fridge. Call it crazy, but you weren’t a fan of drinking bottles of condiments; you preferred things like sodas, teas, and the like. You always picked up a variety of things for everyone to try, although you always picked up a bottle of ketchup and mustard for a certain someone.

“Shopping, apparently!” Papyrus huffed, sounding offended at the very thought of shopping. “For what, I cannot say.”

“girls’ stuff, probably,” Sans said from the doorway to the kitchen. “reminds me of a joke, actually.”

You turned to face him expectantly, even as Papyrus let out an over-the-top sigh of exasperation. Sans ignored his brother’s dramatics and peered up at you, the corners of his eyesockets crinkling in amusement.

“how do you tickle a rich girl?”

You blushed again, even as Papyrus said over his shoulder, “That has nothing to do with shopping, Sans!”

“it does, trust me. so?” Sans’ gaze never left your face, and you fought the urge to squirm in place.

“Uhhh,” was your eloquently worded reply. “No idea, how?”

“you say, ‘Gucci, Gucci, Gucci,’” Sans supplied, offering a wink.

“That was _horrible,_ Sans,” Papyrus said.

You, however, let out a giggle… not so much at the joke, but at the implication behind it. “Wh-where’d you hear that one?” you asked, turning back to the fridge to cover how flustered you were feeling. _He said it again. He said it twice in five minutes. Shit. Why is he suddenly talking about this?_

“oh, found a new joke book at the library. wanted to go and look for new rib-ticklers.”

_Goddamnit okay I KNOW he’s doing it on purpose now. But why?_

You said nothing in response, making a point of opening the fridge and taking out one of the iced teas you’d just put in. Opening it, you decided to pretend you were ignoring the older skeleton, saying to Papyrus, “Would you like some help with that pasta, Pap?”

“Oh, no, I’ve got it covered. Maybe you can distract my brother from making more horrible jokes until Undyne and Alphys get here?”

“You know your brother, he’ll tell jokes till the cows come home,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully at them both.

Sans winked. “you patella him, pal.”

“Anyway, I brought those sci-fi westerns I promised,” you said, attempting to change the subject back to something that made more sense to you. “Wanna have a look at them while Papyrus works his magic?”

“sure,” Sans said, moving to the kitchen table and gesturing for you to do the same.

You hadn’t realized it until now, but as you sat at the table and showed him the television series and movies you’d brought, you felt your shoulders drop from around your ears back to where they were meant to be. You knew that the simple act of someone saying the t-word often got you flustered and made you want to leave the room, but… _C’mon, maybe you’re imagining things,_ you reasoned. _You know hearing it makes you hyper-focus on it for a while. Maybe he just read a whole section in his joke book about… that._

That didn’t sit right with you, though, and you found yourself sneaking glances at Sans as you explained the basic plots of the stories to him. He seemed interested enough, turning one DVD case over to peer at the back as you pointed out the characters you liked. His grin widened as he read it, then glanced up at you.

“you said this was a comedy, too, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I mean it’s got drama and action and all that good stuff, but there are plenty of funny moments in it too.”

“oh, good, I like it when movies tickle my funny bone.”

You went red as a tomato.

_Okay. No. Stop. That was four times. In like. A half hour. What the fuck, Sans._

You cast around in your mind for what could possibly have set him off like this.

The topic of tickling was something you, as a general rule, avoided at all costs in public. It was embarrassing to even think that someone might discover you were into it, especially a good friend, and _especially_ a good friend you might have been flirting with on and off for the past several months. So usually if it came up even briefly among this group of friends you often either did your best to ignore it, or in the worst case scenario excused yourself to the bathroom or kitchen until you were sure the moment was passed.

It didn’t bother you when it was something with kids, mind you; that was just cute, and you’d just smile and ignore the situation when Papyrus and Frisk started roughhousing. But when it came to adults, especially attractive ones… Or situations on television… you had to give yourself space. It was ridiculous, and you knew it was, but every time it happened you became overly self-conscious of every action, as if somehow the people around you would just _know_ and start picking on you for your kink immediately.

It helped that you were able to control your own ticklish reactions, at least for several seconds before you tended to break down. So even though you’d been jabbed at once or twice during a round of playful teasing, you’d never let out any embarrassing noises that had given you away. At least, you didn’t think so.

_So what gives? Unless I sent him a link or…?_

_My phone._

_Fuck._

_He saw something on my phone yesterday._

Normally you were careful about looking up anything to do with it on your phone, but now you remembered the incident clearly; you’d been showing him a funny youtube video on your phone while out at a food court getting lunch, and after the video had ended, well… certain things had showed up in the ‘recommended’ list to watch next.

You’d quickly closed the app and told a joke to distract Sans from looking too closely, but…

_Does he know? Or does he just suspect? Shit._

“hello? this is Houston, Earth to our human pal,” Sans was saying with a chuckle.

You blinked. “Huh? Sorry, spaced out there for a moment,” you said with a sheepish grin.

“something on your mind, buddy?”

You played it off with a roll of your eyes. “Must have been because I haven’t eaten yet today.”

“You haven’t?” Papyrus said, suddenly alarmed. “But that’s not good for you, friend! You should be having your three square meals every day!”

“I know, I know, but when I woke up I wasn’t hungry,” you said. “And I knew we’d be eating a lot while we were here—your food, and the junk food too.”

“I suppose that is the case,” Papyrus conceded. “But still-“

“YO!”

The front door slammed open, but only you winced at the noise; Sans just glanced calmly out toward the living room, while Papyrus let out a frustrated sigh.

“Undyne, I’ve asked you NOT to destroy the house, we just got it all paid off.”

“Relax, Paps, it’s all in one piece, isn’t it? Anyway, we’re here to make this an actual party!” Undyne announced.

You flashed her a grin, and waved at Alphys, who had followed her girlfriend into the house. The latter returned the wave with a shy smile.

“D-do we have enough snacks and things? T-this is an all-day get-together, right?” Alphys asked quietly.

“We ought to!” you said. “I brought a bunch of drinks and put ‘em in the fridge, and I’ve got some snacks too.” You held up your goodie bag for emphasis.

“Sweet. Paps, how’s the pasta doing?” Undyne moved past you to peer over her friend’s shoulder, nodding approvingly. “Fresh basil this time, eh?”

“The human at the grocery store told me the taste would be much more potent! And also the bright green looks quite pretty. It’s almost like Christmas spaghetti!”

“Nice! We’ll have to remember that for Christmas.”

Sans, meanwhile, coughed, causing you to look back at him. He flashed a grin and a wink at you, and coughed again as he moved past you to the fridge this time. He grabbed a bottle of ketchup and opened it as he said, all too innocently, “sorry; I suddenly got a tickle in my throat.”

This time you were able to ignore your blush, persistent as it might be, to give him a playfully flat stare. “You don’t have a throat,” you pointed out.

“rude. i also don’t have a stomach but that doesn’t stop me from eating.”

You shook your head, and when he moved past you toward the couch you gave him a gentle nudge in the ribs with one elbow.

He gave a little squirm and a chuckle. “hey, now, play nice or Undyne will start to think suplexing is on the menu for today.”

“Huh? Did someone say suplexes?” Undyne said, suddenly looking over at the two of you.

You shook your head. “Nope! I didn’t. Sans did, though. He seems really interested in them,” you said, suddenly fighting a mischievous grin.

“hey, no telling fibulas in my house-“

“If that’s true, then get your butt over here, Sans! I’ll be happy to give you a friendship suplex for the day!”

Sans picked up speed heading for the couch. “i’ll pass,” he said, just as he slipped by Alphys.

Undyne huffed. “Nerd,” she replied. “Anyway, let’s get this party started!”

You did. The couch was plenty large enough for all of you to squeeze onto together. Being that you were a human and therefore ‘squishy’ according to skeleton folk, you always wound up somewhere in the middle of the gathering, and this was no exception. (You’d complained about this to Frisk once only to discover they ‘suffered’ the same fate. You suspected everyone just liked cuddling them, though.) To your left was Alphys, with Undyne leaning against her. To your immediate right was Sans, who had opted to twist around and lean with his back against your arm and his legs in Papyrus’ lap.

“Are you going to fall asleep?” you said, grinning down at Sans.

He peered back up with a wink. “if I do, will you hold it against me?”

“Maaaaybe. I like this series and think you would too.”

He shrugged. “we’ll see how it goes. considering how highly you recommend it though, I bet it’ll tickle our fancies.”

You averted your eyes immediately to the television screen, but you heard—and felt—his chuckle just fine.

_He does know,_ you thought, and that made you want to curl up into a ball and die of mortification. It was a wonder Papyrus hadn’t already called his brother out on his theme of jokes today. If he didn’t, Undyne might; they tended to complain when he told several of the same type of jokes over and over. It was the real reason Papyrus groaned at all of the bone-related jokes his brother made; he’d heard them too many times already to count.

_And if they ask will he tell them? I’m right in the middle of this group. What if they find out? What if… they think it’s funny? Or worse, if they think it’s gross?_ Monsters were some of the most laid-back, accepting people you’d ever met, but the thought of them all knowing just… _Urrrggh._

You wanted to bury your face in your hands and hide.

However, there was a movie happening, and one you really liked, so reluctantly you forced yourself to act like a calm, _normal_ non-weirdo and watch it.

To your pleasant surprise… then growing dismay… Sans stayed awake for the entire movie. He commented on the plot, sure, but every few minutes, he would throw in something that was clearly geared toward making you blush. Whether it was throwing an innocuous question at Undyne (“hey, you been tickling the ivories recently?”) or pointing something out in the show, it served to make you more and more flustered.

About halfway through the movie, you’d had enough. Your face was burning, and you were feeling… squirmy.

“Gonna pee,” you announced to the group, gently nudging Sans. He obediently moved to let you get up. “Don’t bother pausing, I know what’s gonna happen.”

“Have fun,” Undyne said, not looking up from the screen.

You avoided making eye contact with Sans as you left, but you had a feeling his eyesockets were trained on you as you went up the stairs to the second floor landing.

You’d been told once that this house nearly mirrored their old one Underground, before they’d all escaped to the surface. From the layout of the furniture to the floor plans, the only differences were that they’d made it more accommodating toward guests like yourself. The couch was much nicer, apparently, and the kitchen much more modern. The bathroom had a picture of a bone hanging on the door, and you smiled faintly at it as you headed toward it. You were looking forward to the privacy to get yourself together.

“heya, pal,” said a voice from behind you.

You jumped, then inwardly groaned. _Of course_ Sans would choose to follow you upstairs… Reluctantly, you turned to face him, despite how flustered you still felt. “What’s up?” you asked, putting on a casual air you didn’t really feel. “Did you miss me already?”

Sans stood a few feet away from you, hands in his pockets, his grin having turned into a proper smirk by now as he looked you over. “it’s cute, you know,” he said.

You blinked. “What?”

He took a few steps forward. “and tame, if you think about it,” he said. “you should hear what Muffet’s into, sometime. or the dogs. _whoo_ boy, you wanna talk about TMI.”

“I… uh… I d-don’t follow.”

He moved forward until he was almost uncomfortably close, and you took a step or two back toward the wall. He followed, until he had you with your back against said wall. Then he peered up at you, his expression unchanged. "i think you do.”

You struggled to come up with something, anything to say. You parted your lips, searched his face, looked away, then looked back at him.

“cat got your tongue?” he asked, his expression softening a bit upon seeing how worked up you were.

“You, uh, you…” You cleared your throat. “Sans, can you just—“

“i got another joke,” he said, leaning up and forward so that your faces were only inches apart.

“You’ve been quite a comedian already today,” you muttered.

“it’s a good one. i bet you know the punchline, too.”

He pulled his hands out to either side of his body, and his fingers gave a pointed wriggle. Even though he wasn’t touching you, you could feel your skin tingle with growing anticipation, and your eyes went wide.

“no joke, huh?” He pretended to be disappointed, but his smirk didn’t fade one whit. “heh. why don’t we just cut to the chase then? if you admit you’re into it, maybe I _won’t_ tickle you until you’re squealing for mercy where everyone can hear you,” he said.

“S-sans,” you squeaked again, shaking your head.

“that’s not an admission, so I guess you’re gonna make me work anyway,” he said, letting out a playful sigh of resignation. Then, he reached out to pinch your sides.

You jumped at the initial touch, but as soon as his fingers started wriggling you immediately slammed the mental brakes on the tingles that were running all over your skin; it was a temporary solution. It was obvious Sans knew, or at least, he thought he knew what he was about, and that meant he wouldn’t give up if you didn’t respond for a couple of seconds. You didn’t immediately grab his hands, either; you knew he’d likely be expecting that.

You felt a sudden rush of irritation. Sans could really be a jerk when he put his mind to it, and this was one of those times. What gave him the right to tease you about this all day anyway? And expect you to just… buckle under his touch like this? You were friends, sure, but didn’t that mean friends didn’t pull this shit with each other? Besides, it was clear he thought you were into _being_ tickled, as opposed to the other way around.

_You know what? If you want me to admit to this so badly, fine. You’ll get your wish, Sans.. and then some._

Ignoring the sensations as best you could, you lifted your own hands, and slipped them under his jacket. Sans hesitated for a second, his grin faltering.

But as soon as your wiggling fingers grazed along his ribs through his shirt, he let out a squeak and stopped his assault on you, wrapping his arms tightly around himself with wide eyes.

You both stared at each other for a second; him, dumbfounded, with a faint blush on his face from the sound; you in amazement.

_That was so fucking adorable._

You realized then that Sans had left himself in quite a predicament, and you finally smiled.

And wiggled your fingers again.

He squeaked a second time, clamping his arms down tighter, but that just meant your fingers were trapped right where you wanted them to be. “b-buddy, h-h-hey,” he stammered, his grin widening into the biggest one you’d ever seen on him. You could see a bead of sweat forming on his temple. “wh-what’s the b-b-b-big idea?”

“You’re right, Sans,” you said, your voice low, as you continued to patiently wiggle your fingers. It wasn’t ideal, as his shirt was still in the way, but it was thin enough that the fabric did little to protect him against every twitch of your digits. He flinched and squirmed, taking a step or two back and letting out a snicker or two. It was clear he was trying to fight his own laughter.

Which was a shame, really.

“I’m into it,” you admitted softly, working your fingers between his rib bones to the spaces there. He jolted in reaction to that, and you let your fingers freeze in place; if he moved, he’d be tickling himself, and judging by the bright blue blush on his face he knew that. You could feel him quivering with the effort not to react, and you had to resist the urge to go full-out on him.

_He’d deserve it after the shit he’s been putting me through today._

“But you didn’t get something quite right,” you continued, pushing that thought aside. “You might have noticed I’m not all that fun to tease; however, that gives me an advantage in things like… tickle fights.”

_Hah, I said the word and I didn’t even stammer._

You stepped toward, and angled him. He followed, not wanting to fight against your fingers, until he was the one pressed against the wall. His hands had dropped down to your wrists, and while his wide grin hadn’t abated at all, you could see the pleading look in his eyes as he gazed up at you.

“And the thing is, Sans, I’ve seen enough today to know you’re a ticklish little thing,” you said, dropping your voice even lower, nearly to a purr. He shivered, and wriggled as your fingers lightly brushed against him. “I could probably pin you down and drive you crazy right here, and the thing is, all I’d have to do is tell everyone downstairs you said one pun too many today and they’d _let_ me.”

You fell silent, to see if he’d respond. His grip on your hands was weak, and his eyesockets were wide as the two pinpoints of light within them searched your face for signs of attack.

He tried. “heh. w-um, you… _ah_! aheh… buddy, you…”

“But,” you finally said, and withdrew your fingers, albeit reluctantly. “Unlike _some_ people, I don’t tickle without making sure it’s okay first,” you said, with a wink to lessen the bite in your words. “And since you haven’t yet told me it’s all right, I’m going to go on my merry way and let you go… _this_ time.”

You had a feeling this wasn’t at all how Sans had expected this to go down; if he ever opened his mouth you’d guess he’d be gaping at you. He let your wrists go without a word of protest as you gave his shoulders a gentle shove, moving to one side so he was able to escape.

“Word of advice, don’t push a tickler too far, or you might get more than you asked for,” you said, and with that, went into the bathroom, and closed and locked the door.

And let out a huge sigh of relief.

God, your heart was pounding in your chest, and your sides still tingled from where he’d been attempting to get a rise out of you. You ran your hands over your sides, trying to rub away the strange feelings, but they persisted. Shaking your head, you went to splash your face with cold water.

So, Sans knew. But he didn’t seem keen on telling anyone anyway; not if he was going to confront you alone about it.

_And I found out that he’s ticklish. Odd, that a skeleton who can’t feel the cold can sense that instead, but I’m not complaining. That was the most adorable squeak I’ve ever heard.. and that blush? Oh my god._

As if you hadn’t already found him cute to begin with.

It took several minutes for you to get your heartrate back to something resembling normal. At which point, you opened the bathroom door and peered around curiously, as you hadn’t heard Sans actually leave.

He wasn’t anywhere in sight.

You headed back downstairs to the couch. Again, there was no sign of Sans, but you made no comment; you simply settled back into ‘your’ spot, and the other monsters accommodated your return without a word.

You didn’t see him at all during the next movie, either; when you finally got up the nerve to ask Papyrus, he grumbled something about his brother “deciding to go take a nap in his room”. You dropped the subject and enjoyed the extra space on the couch, as well as the lack of teasing.

It wasn’t until you were getting ready to leave at the same time as Undyne and Alphys, late that evening, that you felt like someone was watching you.

Without turning around, you risked saying, “Come to say sorry for not watching my movies?”

“...heh.”

That one little sound was so full of nerves that you had to look; Sans was rubbing at the back of his head with one hand, looking sheepish, and not quite making eye contact with you.

“something like that. look. about earlier. you, uh…”

He trailed off. You waited, raising an eyebrow at him. This was rare; a chance to see him squirm a bit. You personally weren’t _that_ annoyed about earlier. Well, not anymore. But it was interesting to see how he fidgeted when things got silent.

However, when the silence started getting awkward, you just let out a soft chuckle and shook your head. “I’ll see you guys for the barbecue tomorrow still, yeah?”

He immediately latched onto that topic, relief evident on his face. “yeah. be ready for yet more ‘Christmas spaghetti’.”

“You know, if he wants it to be Christmas-y he might as well put broccoli into it.”

“broccoli?”

“Yeah, you know, little trees… besides, more veggies wouldn’t hurt.”

“well, maybe you can suggest that to him next time.”

“Right. I better go.”

“hey, buddy.”

You kept heading toward the door, but glanced over your shoulder at him. “Yeah?”

He shifted his weight between his feet. “you, uh, wanna continue that talk we were havin’ sometime?”

“What tal-“ You stopped, staring at him for a moment. Then, after a moment, you slowly smiled, and offered a nod.

“That sounds good. In fact… I think I’d be _tickled_ if we could.”

_Whoo, I said it again without freaking out!_ you cheered in your mind.

Sans let out a startled huff of laughter. “right. cool. great. that’s, uh. awesome.”

“Dork,” you said, letting your smile grow more affectionate to show you didn’t mean it. “Bye.”

You headed out the door, head high, to see Undyne, Alphys, and Papyrus giving their goodbyes to each other out in the driveway. You waved at them all, got into your car, and _grinned._

_Continue our “conversation”, huh? I can’t wait._

Summer hangouts just got the potential to be _much_ more interesting.


	2. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: platonic, brief child/guardian tickles, then... some more interesting tickles.

As fortune would have it, the barbecue was postponed thanks to an unexpected rainfall. While Undyne cried, “Weenies! The lot of you!”, it was decided that everyone would wait for the next day with good weather to roll around. You were both relieved and disappointed all at once; it meant you didn’t have to face Sans right away, sure, but it also meant you had more time to yourself to stew over everything that had happened.

You went through your phone, cleaning out anything that would be even remotely incriminating in regards to your, ahem, interest. That helped you feel better, even though you knew the damage was done.

Another thing that relieved and disappointed you was how Sans made no mention of it at all during his texts over the next few days. Perhaps it was because you all were using a group chat, but you found yourself squinting at every line, every joke he made, wondering if he was making a reference to anything. If he was going to.

You were, naturally, thoroughly wound up by the time the barbecue finally happened five days later than planned.

The previous day had been nice enough, but everyone had agreed that they wanted to make sure the ground was dry before picnicking outside. Today too was gorgeous; hot but not wretchedly humid. You dressed for the weather, choosing durable sandals, shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. When it was hot outside, comfort ruled over fashion any day.

Sunglasses on your head, you were picked up by Papyrus at eleven A.M. sharp. Peering into the car, you saw it was already quite crowded; Toriel had shotgun, while Sans and Frisk were in the back seat (with the former in the middle). You opened the door and slipped inside, grinning at everyone in greeting.

“Hey, guys, thanks for picking me up,” you said, closing the door and getting yourself situated.

“Not a problem, my friend!” Papyrus answered in his usual booming voice. “It is about time we got this barbecue going, however!”

“Indeed,” Toriel said warmly, shooting you a smile. “Did you remember to bring sunscreen, dear?”

You offered a thumbs up. “Enough I can pass it around in case _anybody_ needs it,” you said, flickering your gaze at Frisk pointedly.

Toriel’s smile grew, while Frisk blew a raspberry at you. “Wonderful! And your hat?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes; instead, you gestured to your bag, which you’d set between your legs. “In there,” you said.

“no need to mother us all, Tori,” Sans said, reaching up to give you a gentle nudge in the side. When you glanced down at him, he winked at you, causing you to blush and glance away.

As you did, you heard Toriel laugh merrily. “Sorry! I can’t help it. I’m sure you have everything well in hand.”

“nobody wants to be a _handful_ for ya,” Sans responded.

Toriel let out a snort. You felt a grin pulling at the corners of your lips as she said, “Indeed, but I hope you’ll all be willing to lend a _hand_ setting up the food.”

“I would like to say now,” Papyrus warned, “that any punnery from here on out will result in me stopping the car and forcing everyone to walk!”

Toriel giggled, and you heard Sans let out a soft chuckle beside you. “aw, bro, I gotta _hand_ it to ya-“

The car stopped. “That’s it, everyone out.”

“Hey! Do I have to get out? I didn’t say anything,” you protested. “I was good!”

“It is only a matter of time before you start, too,” Papyrus said, turning to regard you with playful suspicion.

“Aww, come on, we’ll all be good.” You nudged Sans back, adding, “Right?”

“no promises,” he said.

Papyrus scanned everyone for a few seconds, then he said, “Fine, this is your last chance.”

The car started again.

Not that it had been that bad of a threat; not two minutes later you were pulling into a parking space right outside the community park. It wasn’t that big, but what drew you all to it was the quiet, and the stream that wound through it. As a kid, you’d wandered through that stream, discovering it linked multiple little parks together. It was the perfect place to dip your feet in during hot weather, or go salamander hunting when you were in the mood for it.

You glanced over at Frisk, who was already eyeing the water with interest.

As soon as the car stopped, everyone filed out. You moved to the trunk of the car, and as soon as Papyrus popped it open you reached in to grab a cooler bag. Judging by the weight of it, you guessed you’d grabbed drinks.

“Careful with that, my dear,” Toriel said, “it’s a little heavy.”

“Don’t you worry, Toriel,” you said with a little grin and wink. “It’s nothing I can’t _hand-_ le.”

Papyrus let out a groan. “I was starting to trust you!” he complained, walking by to grab a container. Likely filled with his spaghetti.

“Sorry, buddy, I couldn’t help it,” you admitted. “Sans and Toriel are just awful influences on me.”

“admit it, you’re just as bad as the two of us,” Sans said, while Toriel giggled.

You rolled your eyes and gently bumped him with your hip as you passed by, trying not to think too much of the gesture as you did so. Papyrus was already walking ahead, so you followed him, determined not to glance back—

Until you felt two boney fingers poke you on either side.

Jumping, you turned your head to shoot Sans a glare.

His grin widened as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “jumpy, aren’cha, pal?” he said, as tingles ran their way up and down your sides.

Feeling heat rush to your face, you muttered a soft, “Dork,” before quickening your pace to catch up with Papyrus. You heard soft laughter behind you, and everything suddenly felt hypersensitive. You half-expected him to do it again, and kept your arms close to your sides as you power-walked.

_At least it was just gentle pokes and I didn’t make any noise, but ugh…_

You set the cooler down on a picnic table by the stream, taking a breath as you did so. Papyrus had already set his container down and was heading back toward the car, calling to Toriel. You watched him go, and was glad to see Sans had hung back—Toriel was giggling over something he’d said, and you could see the delight on his face at her laughter.

 _Good. Stay over there until I figure out what’s going on.. and what I_ want _to have going on._

Hearing a soft, “Oof,” next to you, you glanced over to see Frisk had carried a rather sizable pie plate from the car to the table. “You okay there?” you asked in amusement as they set the plate down with obvious relief.

Frisk offered you a thumbs up; sign language was not one of your strong points, despite your attempts to learn it, so often the two of you had to communicate through texting or a game of charades. You appreciated Frisks’ efforts to talk to you, especially considering that at the moment you were the two humans of the group.

Speaking of which—

“ _HEY, NERDS!”_ you heard someone shouting from the parking lot, and grinned to yourself. That could only be Undyne. You sat on the picnic table bench and lifted a hand to wave as she pulled into a space, half hanging out of the window as she did so in order to greet everyone.

It wasn’t long before the picnic table was crowded with goodies; Toriel’s pie, Papyrus’s spaghetti, Alphys’s bag of chips and cookies, Sans’s bottles of various condiments, the drinks. You, meanwhile, made sure to set out your contribution to the whole endeavor—paper plates, napkins, cups, and plastic utensils.

Once everyone was ready, you reached for Papyrus’s container first and lifted the lid, brightening. “Hey! You added the broccoli!” you said, both amused and delighted at the bright green stalks decorating the tomato sauce.

“You were right, friend, they really _do_ make it look more Christmas-y!” he said, putting hands on his hipbones and beaming. “Now we need to think of other themes for my pasta, so we can make it properly seasonal!”

“Seasonal, eh?” you mused, helping yourself to a serving of that before passing the tongs over to Undyne. She was grinning brightly as she grabbed a huge helping of the pasta. “What would be good for summer, I wonder?”

“Chilled noodles?” Alphys offered. “Th-that’s what they do in Japan; they chill noodles and you dip it into cold sauce before e-eating it.”

“Chilled spaghetti?” Papyrus said contemplatively. “Frisk! Did I not feed you just that when we were Underground?”

Frisk signed at him for a minute. The gestures were lost on you, so you went ahead in getting food while Papyrus brought up his hands to clap them together.

“Ah, that’s right, you didn’t! You saved it so we could share! It’s a pity we never did. At least now we can! Nyeh heh heh!”

That sounded like a story in and of itself; you decided to ask Frisk about it later. Judging by their expression, Papyrus was only remembering _his_ version of events. Which, while not entirely wrong…

_Tends to be a little exaggerated at times._

Everyone had a first helping of the food brought along; Toriel lit up a nearby grill, and Sans also produced hotdogs seemingly out of nowhere. Considering the sheer amount of food, you could only take one of them, but Sans didn’t seem bothered by it.

“we’re saving the majority of the grilling food for tonight,” he said when you apologized for only taking one. “no worries, pal. this isn’t an eating contest.”

“CONTEST? Who said there’s a contest?” Undyne said, slamming her fists on the picnic table. Drinks wobbled dangerously from the impact.

“An eating contest! How delightful!” Papyrus said brightly. “What do you think, Undyne?”

“You’re on! How does it work?” she asked, turning to Alphys expectantly.

Her girlfriend colored. “H-how should _I_ know? I-I imagine it’s all about how much food you can pack away, but…”

“Y’hear that, punks? Who’s in for the eating contest?” Undyne said, scanning the group of friends expectantly.

“Not me,” you said. “I’m already stuffed.”

“Weenie. I bet Asgore’d be down for it. Hey! Where _is_ the big guy anyway?” Undyne demanded, turning to face Toriel.

She sighed. “He texted just a few minutes ago; he was caught in a last-minute meeting and is likely to be late.”

“That is a shame!” Papyrus said. “We must save some food for him until he returns, so let us hold off on the contest for now!”

“Yeah, makes sense.” Undyne sighed, then seemed to perk up, slamming one fist down on the table hard enough to make everything shake. “In that case, who’s up for extreme badminton?!”

Now that, you volunteered for.

The next couple of hours passed in a blur of fun; you regretted running around so quickly after eating so much, of course, but that was nothing some quiet time at the picnic table couldn’t fix. Papyrus had brought a jigsaw puzzle to work on, while Undyne had brought a football to toss around when badminton no longer appealed. You and Frisk decided to wade into the water of the stream with a watchful Toriel nearby, reminding you to top up on sunscreen every now and again. Whenever she did, Sans would interject with a pun or a joke that would make her laugh and forget all about mothering you.

Which suited you just fine.

Two hours later, everyone had chosen to sit at the table and relax. While the initial plan had been to finish Papyrus’s puzzle, everyone had broken off into little groups to chatter or play.

You were sitting on the end of one of the benches, directly across from Frisk and Papyrus. Toriel sat at your side, with Sans on the other side of her, which you had mixed feelings about.

But what you didn’t have mixed feelings about was how cute it was when Pap and Frisk played.

The two of them were facing each other, and Frisk would lift their arms, as though asking to be held like a young child. Every time they did, Papyrus would let out an amused, “Nyeh heh heh!” and wriggle his hands under their arms. Frisk would drop their arms, squeaking or giggling softly, and Papyrus would withdraw to wait for the next round.

“Don’t get Frisk _too_ worked up, now,” Toriel said, with a soft giggle. “Or worn out. After all, we still have snacktime before too long. I know Alphys brought cookies, but I couldn’t help but take the opportunity and make… some…” She suddenly gasped. “Oh dear. I left them in the car! They must be in horrible condition by now!”

“Or twice-baked,” you said. “Want me to go over and get them?”

“Oh, would you, dear?” she asked, turning to you with a grateful smile.

You got to your feet. “I’ll be just a minute. The car’s open, right?” you asked, turning to Papyrus.

He currently was mid-tickle, but still glanced up to you to grin and nod.

“Be right back,” you said, and headed off, grinning.

It was nice to get a moment to yourself; as much as you enjoyed spending time with everyone, getting some quiet time was a relief. You let out a sigh as you reached the car. Maybe you’d fuss around for a couple minutes, fiddle with your phone or something to get a bit of extra time before you went back. You reached for the driver’s side door when—

“so. how come Frisk getting tickled silly doesn’t faze you one bit?”

You froze, feeling your face flush. _Of_ course _he’d follow me._ You felt a rush of nervousness and anticipation, but tried to ignore it as you went through the motion of opening the car door. “Why _would_ it faze me?” you asked, as casually as you could.

Sans let out a soft snort.

Sighing, you glanced around in the car, determining you’d opened the wrong door to get the cookies from. Closing it, you moved to the back of the car, glancing over at Sans. He was doing what he sometimes did to show off—leaning against the side of the hot car without appearing bothered at all by the temperature. He wore his usual jacket over his shirt and basketball shorts, and you felt warm just thinking about wearing that extra layer.

“Frisk is just a little kid playing with someone they trust,” you said. “There’s nothing to get fazed about. It’s just innocent fun.”

“innocent fun,” he said, drawing the words out. “so what you’re into is something… _less_ innocent. is that what you’re saying?”

“Well. I mean. Um.” You tried to find the words, feeling your hands fidget as Sans watched you, hands in his pockets, one leg crossed over the other and a lazy smile on his face. _Dammit, you’re enjoying watching me get flustered about this._ “It has to be with all adults before I get… um…. Y’know.”

“squirmy? flustered? blushy?” he said, offering a wink.

“Whatever, like _you’re_ able to keep a cool head yourself when someone tickles you,” you retorted, moving past him to walk to the other side of the car.

“heh. uh. speaking of,” he said, and that caused you to stop again.

You turned to face him, raising an eyebrow in question. He had twisted around to watch you, but the lights in his eyesockets were averted to one side and he’d reached up one hand so he could scratch at one side of his face. He almost appeared sheepish.

“y’remember how we talked about… continuing our chat?” he continued, when you said nothing.

You nodded. “What about it?” you asked, curious despite yourself.

“when we head home tonight, you wanna come back with us? it’s not far from your place, and since everyone will be pretty tired it’ll be a good chance for us to, uh, _talk_. without anyone interrupting us.”

Your head started to spin with the possibilities.

 _Is he suggesting we do what I think we do? That I do? Is he… I mean he’s cool with it after all? He didn’t decide it’s all weird and…_ Realizing he was awaiting an answer, you stammered, “No, uh, that sounds good. Let’s do that.”

“yeah?” His smile grew. “cool.”

You smiled back at him, then turned to fetch the cookies.

The platter smelled like melted chocolate, and you hummed as you pulled it out. Yes, it was hot, but… “Gooey chocolate chip cookies doesn’t sound _that_ bad,” you commented as you hip-bumped the door closed.

Sans nodded, and the two of you walked back to the picnic table together in more or less companionable silence. You couldn’t help but risk a glance or two at him, though, and as you returned to the group you found yourself unable to concentrate on much of what was happening.

_I can’t believe he’s interested. Does this mean something else? Am I thinking too much about this? ….I mean yes, I am, who am I kidding, but… oh this could go so well… or so bad…_

~*~

The day went by slowly from then on. The cookies were deemed safe enough to eat, Asgore showed up looking harried and tired at around five p.m., you got thoroughly sunburned on your face and neck, and Frisk caught a salamander three times. Every time, Toriel coaxed them to release the little thing, insisting they had no means to take care of it back home.

Games were played, and in the evening the real barbecue was on. Asgore had brought proper grilling goodies—chicken, veggies, hamburgers, the whole deal. Sans offered yet more hotdogs to boot, with every condiment and topping imaginable. You were sure you ate far too much, and were glad you’d opted for loose shorts rather than jeans. Your stomach appreciated the extra room, that was for sure.

Eventually, evening came, and it was time to head back home. You found yourself in the back of Papyrus’s car once again, with Sans sitting in the middle and a sleepy Frisk on the other side. Sans made a point of leaning against you as Papyrus drove, and you wondered if he could feel the way your heart was starting to pound in your chest.

Toriel and Frisk were dropped off, and Papyrus invited you to consider staying the night.

“No, that’s okay, Papyrus,” you said. “I don’t mind hanging out a bit longer, but I should head home tonight. I need to put aloe on all of this,” you added, ruefully gesturing to your face and neck.

“You certainly did a number on yourself!” Papyrus said worriedly. “I thought you put on sunscreen.”

“I did, at least five times thanks to Toriel’s worrying.”

Sans let out a chuckle, a soft rumble you felt more than heard. “she does like to do that.”

“Well, if you must go home to your aloe, please don’t stay up too late!” Papyrus said. “You are welcome to stay as long as you like, of course. I have some dishes to do, so I fear that entertaining you will be left up to my brother until cleaning is finished.”

“oh, don’t worry, Paps,” Sans said, and something in his tone made you want to squirm. “i’ll make sure to entertain our guest ‘till you’re ready. maybe for a movie?”

“A movie would be great! Maybe this time you won’t skip out on us halfway through to nap,” Papyrus said.

“That would be nice,” you agreed.

“what can I say, while the movie tickled my fancy I needed a break.”

You felt your face flush. _Goddammit Sans._

Papyrus huffed, equally unimpressed with his brother it seemed. “All right, we’re here,” he said.

You waited until Papyrus exited the car, then glanced at Sans, holding up a finger to your lips to request silence. When he raised a brow at you, you fished some crumpled-up bills from your pocket and dropped them on the driver’s seat before slipping out of the car. “Oops,” you said as innocently as you could.

Sans chuckled as he followed you out; Papyrus had already made it to the front door and was unlocking it. “y’know it’s just gonna reappear in your wallet, right?”

“I can try,” you retorted. “It’s only fair.”

Papyrus got the door open, and you all wandered inside. The air conditioning felt great after spending a day out in the hot sun, and wandering over to the nearest mirror, you winced. Yep, that was sunburn all right.

“Make yourself at home; holler if Sans decides to get too punny,” Papyrus said.

You flashed him a smile. “Don’t worry, I know how to handle a punny Sans,” you reassured him.

Satisfied, Papyrus ducked into the kitchen. Meanwhile, Sans came up next to you and cleared his throat to catch your attention.

You could see a faint dusting of blue on his cheekbones as he murmured, “hey, uh… why don’t we go up to my room for this? just, y’know. in case.”

Your smile faded, but not entirely as you nodded in agreement. “Yeah, okay,” you said, and waited for him to start walking up the stairs before you followed him.

Anticipation was beginning to make you hyper-aware of everything again; the swishing of fabric and creaking of the stairs as you both walked up. The way Sans reached up to run his fingers over the back of his skull. How he opened the door to his room and gestured for you to step in first. However, sensing a prank, you shook your head and gestured for him to go in first.

He playfully sighed. “what, you don’t trust me? buddy. pal. would I do anything?”

You shot him a Look.

He shook his head, and reached in to flick on the light. “see? nothin’ in there.”

“Can’t be too careful with a funny guy like you around,” you said, and the two of you slipped inside.

It was a mess; you’d peeked in once or twice before and known that, but this was impressive. The bed was stripped down to a bare mattress, with a pile of clean but crumpled-looking sheets in one corner. The overhead light worked fine, thank goodness, because the only other source of light was a lamp… that had no lightbulb in it. There was a pile of clothes in one corner, and you swore if you looked at it for too long, you could see it twitching.

Shuddering, you edged around that toward the bed. Sans closed the door and followed you, and gestured for you to have a seat on the bed. When you did, he sat down next to you, letting out a sheepish chuckle.

“so.”

“So,” you said, then took a deep breath. “What exactly did you want to… _talk_ about?”

There was a pause. You waited; you were getting used to playing the waiting game with Sans, and this time was no different as you were soon rewarded with him answering. “i didn’t even think it was a thing until you, y’know.”

You glanced over at him, and saw he was watching you. His eyelights were bright and wide with interest as he looked you over.

“like I said, it’s cute. even if it wasn’t _exactly_ what I was expecting.” He paused, glancing across the room for a moment. “so you’re more into… dishing it out, as it were, right?”

You nodded. “The other way around doesn’t tend to work well,” you admitted. “I get too tense to enjoy it.”

“what about it is the draw for you then?”

“Honestly?” You considered for a moment, averting your eyes. Your face was getting heated all over again, but you didn’t mind it so much. Sans wasn’t out to embarrass you on purpose this time; he seemed genuinely curious, and you appreciated that… even if it was hard to talk about. “I’ve always treasured making people laugh. This just… adds on to it, in a way.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him nod in thoughtful response.

“How come you’re so curious about it?” you asked suddenly, returning your gaze to him.

“me? uh. well.” He kept his gaze averted.

You reached over and gently nudged him. “Come on, Sans, don’t get all mum on me now, you’re the one who wanted to talk,” you said.

He squirmed a bit. “i guess… i just want to know more?”

“Know more about what?”

He was silent, and as you eyed him, you suddenly felt a swell of hope and excitement. You bit your lower lip, taking a few seconds to reign yourself in. However, even with that precaution you couldn’t help but blurt out, “Do you want to try it?”

Sans looked up and stared, the edges of his eyesockets widening in surprise.

You stared back, even though you felt the urge to melt into the floor just from suggesting it. You couldn’t remember ever asking anybody to participate before; things like this tended to happen naturally, and never with anyone knowing how much you liked it. Your heart pounded in your ears as he searched your face.

Then, he nodded.

You found yourself grinning foolishly at him. “Really?”

He let out a soft snort again, and reached out to catch your hand. “c’mon, kid, I’m not tryin’ to jerk your chain or anything here,” he said. “yeah. i just… need some guidance on how this is supposed to work for you.”

Excitement was making it hard to think; you wanted to fidget in place, to stress about what could go wrong, to… _Breathe. Be cool. Don’t scare him off._ You nodded, and cast around in your mind for the obvious first step. “Do you… have any limits? Like… anywhere you’d rather I not touch?” you asked.

He shook his head in dismissal.

“Okay then, um. If you’re okay with this, could you… take off your jacket? It’ll make it easier.”

Sans wordlessly did as asked. He let go of your hand, then slipped it off and let the jacket drop off the side of the bed. He suddenly looked much smaller without it on, and you found your confidence building as he looked up at you for further guidance. “now what?”

“Get comfortable. I mean, you won’t be comfortable for long, but you might as well,” you said, chuckling a bit.

He echoed your chuckle, and you watched as he scooted back on the bed until he was able to lie down. You waited until he was lying on his back, and smiled in amusement. Despite him not having an actual stomach, he still rested his hands on the part of his shirt that billowed out as though he had one. He was blushing, and his eyesockets were wide as he watched you; you twisted around so that you were sitting next to him. “like this?” he asked.

“Yep. Exactly.” You looked over him, and smiled. “You sure you’re up for this, Sans?”

He nodded.

“Good. Then I need you to do one last thing before we start.”

He furrowed his brow in question.

“Ask me to tickle you.”

His blush deepened and his brows shot up in surprise. “w-what?”

“You heard me. I told you; I don’t do anything unless I get the okay,” you said. “If I don’t get it, nothing happens.”

“i… oh.” He hesitated, and you saw a bead of sweat forming on the top of his skull.

You gave him a few seconds, then gave a dramatic shrug. “Well, we can try another time.. or just call the whole thing off,” you said, leaning back away from him.

“wait, I…” He paused, his hands fidgeting. Then averting his eyes, he muttered, “will you… do that?”

“Do what?” You knew this game; you’d had it played on you before. The t-word was powerful, especially for the ticklee. Just the mention of it could build up anticipation, make you squirmy… and you were delighted to see it was already having a similar effect on Sans as he let out a nervous chuckle.

“jeez, bud, you’re really getting me worked up here,” he said, offering you a sheepish look.

You just smirked at him.

Finally, he let out a sigh. “okay, okay… just… will you… tickle me?” The last two words were softly muttered, but you were still able to hear them just fine.

Your smirk turned into a smile, and you nodded. “Okay.”

You reached out your hands for the sides of his skull. You knew about the usual tickle spots on humans, but this was the first time you’d get to try anything out on a skeleton. When your fingertips grazed his temples, he flinched at first, then warily relaxed as you traced teasing patterns over the top of his head.

That didn’t last long; his shoulders started to scrunch up as you let your fingertips lightly drag around the holes in his head where ears would have been on a human, and you saw his smile widen. You found your own smile growing at the sight, and you decided to stay there for a second, using light, gentle touches until you teased a snicker out of him.

He reached up to bat your hands away with his own. “hey, take it easy on me, pal-“ he said.

“What are you talking about? I _am_ taking it easy on you,” you retorted. “If I was mean, I woulda gone straight for your ribs… though hey, if that’s what you want,” you said. As you spoke, you lightened your tone and quickened your fingers’ wiggling as they danced around the sides of his skull. He snickered again and covered both spots with his hands, shaking his head. “Oh hey, look what somebody just left _wide_ open for me,” you said, and immediately dropped your hands to his upper ribs, just under his arms.

His laughter shot up in volume and he slammed his arms down; not that it did anything to stop you, as you were wriggling your fingers against his ribs through his shirt. “aaa _ha_! kid, hey! _waiiiit_!” he yelped, his body giving in to a squirm.

“What’s the matter, cutie? Suddenly realized how ticklish you are?” you teased.

You were further pleased to hear him give in to a series of helpless giggles, and kept your fingers there. It was a little strange, tickling Sans; you could feel his bones just fine through his shirt, which meant you weren’t grabbing at anything so much as skittering your fingers. But the same time…

_God damn is he adorable._

His eyesockets squeezed shut as he laughed, and he shook his head as though trying to will himself not to feel the teasing sensations. He couldn’t seem to move his arms at all; they were tight against your hands, leaving you no choice but to flutter your fingers right in the spots that were driving him crazy.

“Oh no, my fingers are trapped,” you said in a deadpan voice. “I guess they’re stuck here forever. No matter how they wriggle they can’t seem to escape! Kinda like you, huh?”

“staaahaap!” he squeaked, and you let out a chuckle.

“There it is; that’s what I’ve been wanting to hear. Did you know you squeak when you’re tickled? How cute is that?” you said, not expecting an answer from him. “Come on, buddy, move your arms for me, unless you waaaaant me to keep tickling right here.”

“ _nooo_!” came the squeaked answer. He was trying to curl into a ball, which you decided was simply not acceptable. You shifted your weight and straddled him, resting yourself on his upper legs so he couldn’t protect himself. He gasped your name in protest, forcing open his eyesockets in an attempt to give you a reproachful look. However, it was completely ruined when you picked up the speed on wriggling your fingers; he arched his back, laughing up at the ceiling.

“All right, tell you what,” you said. “I’ll give you a choice on where I’ll get you next. Your knees, or your feet.”

“that’s an _awwwwful_ choice!” he complained through his giggles, closing his eyesockets once again. You could feel him drumming his feet against the bed.

“Awww, what’s the matter, is poor Sans in a ticklish situation?” you cooed.

“that was so _bahahad_!”

“Sounds like he is. Well, he got himself into it so he might as well enjoy it. So? I’m waiting. Knees, feet… or am I tickling you riiiiiight here forever?”

“pleehease god no!” He shook his head, and forced his eyesockets open again. This time he gave you an openly pleading look. His grin was wider than you’d ever seen it, and you could see tears collecting at the corners of his eyesockets. “knees! _kneehehehees_!”

“Good boy,” you said, stopping your fingers and holding them still. He gasped for air, his ribcage expanding and contracting as he collapsed on the bed in temporary relief. You waited a few seconds, then pulled your hands away. Curious about how he’d react, rather than turning yourself around or scooting further down, you instead reached behind yourself and danced your fingertips along his patellas.

This time the giggles came immediately. “oh _shit_ that _tickles_ ,” he complained.

“That’s the idea, cutie,” you said. “Are you happy with your choice? Because I certainly am. Lookit you wriggling all cute like that. Y’know, you really shouldn’t just take this lying down; ticklers are gonna get the wrong idea.” You were pleased to hear him snort at the bad joke, but even beyond that…

You were soaring. You were in your element. Here was someone who was not only willing to take what you were dishing out, but seemed to be enjoying the back and forth. He was squirming, sure, but he was making no real effort to get away. You knew that the instant he was done with this he could easily teleport himself to safety, but there he was, being a little wiggle worm.

_Who gave you the right to be so fucking cute?_

You didn’t realize you’d said that aloud until you saw him open an eyesocket to look at you briefly. You slipped your fingers to the underside of his knees and he jerked, one hand slapping at his mattress in ticklish frustration.

“shihihit!”

“Ooh, I found a _good_ spot,” you said. “I think I’ll stay here for a while.”

He whined through his laughter, shaking his head and bringing his arms up to cover his face. As he did, his shirt rode up some, giving you a peek at his spine and one of his hip bones.

That stirred a curiosity in you that… wasn’t entirely innocent. Your fingers suddenly itched to reach up and dance along those hip bones to see if he was just as sensitive there. _Would he squeak again? Or would he cackle? Or would he moan?_

_Whoa, easy, that’s a little weird to be thinking about him… even though he basically invited you to indulge in your kink with him in the privacy of his room…_

Luckily, right around then, Sans let out a cry of, “i need a break!”

You stopped, moving your hands forward to rest on either side of Sans. He took several seconds, giggling quietly to himself and keeping his face covered with his arms. You watched as he calmed himself down, then slowly dropped his arms, his eyes averted. His tickle-induced grin was still in place, however, and you found yourself smiling at the sight of it.

“You okay?” you asked quietly, not moving from where you were.

He nodded. “yeah. heh. damn.”

“Intense, isn’t it?”

He let out a snort, glancing up to your face. “i’ll say.”

You waited for a second, then said, “Is it okay if I continue? If you don’t like it-“

“no, no, I’m fine. i just… _shit_. i forgot how bad my knees are,” he said, his grin turning rueful. “let me patella you, pal, it’s been a while.”

You snorted, sitting upright. “Really? You’re going to pun at me right now?”

“no time like the present, right? not tibia brat or anything, but-“

“Oh, I think you’re being bratty. Though you know what being bratty means in a situation like this, right?” You grinned at him.

His grin widened. “enlighten me, pal.”

Oh how amazing it was to hear that. You slipped off of his legs, enjoying the brief look of curiosity on his face as he watched you scoot down the bed to his feet. You carefully hooked your arm around his joints, turning to wink at him.

“I’m a little sad it’ll be awkward to see your face during this, but I bet it’ll be worth it,” you said. “Ready for this?”

You didn’t give him much of a chance to answer; you were soon skittering your fingers along the undersides of his boney feet. They reminded you of birds’ feet in a way; all delicate, tiny bones that made you wonder how he managed to walk around at all.

 _Magic,_ you supposed.

But that was neither here nor there as he immediately started snickering again, covering his face with one sleeved arm and falling back on the bed.

“Hey, no, don’t hide from me,” you complained, gently running your fingertips along the undersides of each individual phalange. “I wanna see your face when you’re laughing.”

He shook his head and smacked the mattress with one hand again.

“That good a spot?” you guessed. “You’re not laughing as hard as when I got your knees. Maybe I should go back to tickling them, what do you think?”

“ _no_!” came the resounding answer from Sans.

You giggled. “Well stop hiding, you goof, or I might have to!”

He slowly obeyed, dropping his arm and grasping at the mattress with both hands as he giggled up at the ceiling.

“Good boy,” you praised him again, slowing your tickling in order to wiggle an index finger in between two of the phalanges on one of his feet. “Hmm. I feel like your feet need something more delicate. Like a feather. Just imagine that between your toes down here.”

“oh _gohohod_ ,” came the groaning laughter from up above.

“Careful, cutie, I might have to try it if you let me at these feet again,” you warned him. “Though for now…” you set down his feet, and started crawling up to him with purpose.

He blinked his eyesockets open, his eyelights growing brighter and becoming wider as you straddled his hips again. He held up his hands as though in defense. “wait, what are you-?!” He froze, then burst into loud laughter as you dug your fingers into his lower ribs.. right where you’d tickled him last time.

Like you had in the hallway, you worked your fingers in between his ribs through his shirt. Unlike last time, however, you ruthlessly wriggled all of your fingers, and he started laughing so hard his bones began to rattle. It was a miracle Papyrus didn’t come marching up the steps to see what the racket was all about, but you were glad for that; this moment was incredible. Sans’ face, his reactions, the way he was squeaking more than properly laughing now, how he was drumming his feet on the bed again… every part of it was wonderful.

It took you a few seconds to realize that he was trying to squeak out the word, “ _mercy_!” between gasps for air.

As soon as you did, however, you stopped, holding up your hands away from his body entirely. “Whoa, sorry, did I go overboard?” you asked. “You okay, Sans?”

He wrapped his arms around himself and tried to curl up on one side, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. You climbed off of him, allowing Sans the space he apparently needed. He had his eyesockets closed and was panting.

When no response came, you started to feel the first niggling bits of guilt. “…Sans? Are you okay? …Can you nod your head for me if you’re all right?”

A moment later, he nodded, though he otherwise didn’t move.

“Are you mad?”

He shook his head.

“Do you need some space? Some water?”

He hesitated. Then, he spoke softly, “Water… would be nice.”

You looked over him for a moment, then nodded, “Okay,” you said. “I’ll be right back with water. Won’t be a minute.” When he didn’t say anything in response, you turned to head out the door and to the bathroom. The kitchen would have been your first choice, but with Papyrus in there… you weren’t sure if you were ready to face him after what you just did to his brother.

_Not that Pap would see it as anything but innocent playtime, but…_

You got a paper cup and filled it with water, then went right back into Sans’ room. He hadn’t moved, but his breathing had gotten quieter. You sat on the edge of the bed, and said, “Hey, I got a cup of water for you whenever you’re ready for it.”

He turned his head at that, and muttered a soft, “thanks,” reaching out to accept it. As he did, he slowly uncurled and sat up. You could see his gaze flickering to your hands, so as soon as you’d handed over the cup you dropped them to your lap so he could see you weren’t going to attack again. He visibly relaxed at that.

“You know, I’m surprised you took that as well as you did,” you told him, offering a small smile. “I was expecting more of a fight, but… um.. so.. what did you think?”

He let out a soft huff of laughter before he downed the water, then offered the cup to you. As you accepted it, he said with a wry smile, “you got some magic fingers there, kid.”

You let out a shy giggle at that.

His smile grew. “well, it wasn’t what I expected, exactly, but…” He loosely wrapped his arms around his lower torso. “it was… fun. i can’t remember the last time I laughed like that.”

“Really? It was a lot of fun for me, too.”

“yeah, I could tell. i don’t think I’ve ever seen you that flirty or confident before. where does it all go when you’re _not_ tickling the shit out of someone?”

That made you blush. “Er… I’m not sure? I guess I just feel comfortable when I’m doing it.”

He let out a soft chuckle. “hey. uh.”

You let your smile fade a bit, and tilted your head to one side in silent question.

“so… i’d like it if… if this weren’t a one-time thing. if maybe… we did it again. and if we hung out more—just the two of us.”

You could feel your eyes widen, and you searched his face for a moment, wondering if he could possibly be joking. When his expression didn’t change, however, you found your smile returning. “I think I’d like that too,” you responded, reaching out a hand to him, palm-up. “Both of those things, in fact.”

He reached up and laced his fingers in between yours. The smooth texture of the bones against your skin was something, you imagined, you’d have to get more used to as he gave your hand a squeeze. “that’d be great, kid,” he said.

You squeezed his hand back, then gently pulled away. “I imagine Papyrus is long done with those dishes,” you said.

Sans made a face. “yeah, probably… should we go down and see what movie he wants to watch?”

“Yeah. Though I swear to god, Sans, if you make one more tickle pun tonight…”

“you’ll what?” He raised his brow at you, grinning.

You grinned back. “I’ll drive to the nearest craft shop and buy _all_ the feathers.”

“heh, no you won’t. you’ll blush and die of embarrassment before you even go in.”

Point. “Then I’ll ask Papyrus to do it and tell him I have an art project.. and you agreed to help me with it.”

“pffft. we’ll see about that. let’s go down.” He slid off of the bed, adjusting his clothes and reaching up to wipe some of the remaining tears from his eyesockets.

You watched as he shrugged back into his jacket, and when he held out his hand to you, you accepted it, using it to pull yourself to your feet.

When he didn’t pull away once you were standing, neither did you; fingers loosely intertwined, you headed down to see about that movie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So because the muse bit me, here's a new chapter. I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you to those who commented and gave kudos on the first part!

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant to be a one-shot, but more might follow if the muse inspires me, either as a second chapter or as a separate story. I hope you all enjoy this!


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